


Unstable

by PityTheVanity



Category: Captain America (Marvel) - Fandom, Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Reference of self harm, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Smut, Winter Solider needs a hug, bucky barnes protection squad, winter solider - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:00:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26116075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PityTheVanity/pseuds/PityTheVanity
Summary: The Winter Solider seeks out his nurse. He’s not sure why, but he knows she will know how to help.
Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Original Female Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	Unstable

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hi team 👋🏻
> 
> Songs don’t usually inspire me, but the Maleek Berry remix of “Unstable” by Zak Abel got me feeling some type of way.
> 
> This is set pre Winter Solider, with the ending being a little time after Civil War. 
> 
> I’ve been thinking of creating an actual story between these two, from pre WS to after Civil War in the future.
> 
> What do y’all think?
> 
> Been in a bit of a creative writing slump since Covid hit. I’ve been working with Covid patients for almost 7 months now, and it’s just drained my noggin’. I hope y’all are doing well and are healthy, happy, and safe ✌🏻

He didn’t know why he kept returning here. 

It wasn’t part of his mission. 

He knew he’d been here before. A few times, in fact. 

A longing brought him here, when time allowed. 

He was due for extraction in 9 hours. 

He’d finished his mission quickly. 

It was getting easier for him to lie to his handler when asked for a mission report. 

It’d never been before. He wasn’t sure when “before” was, but he knew he hadn’t lied to them before. 

He couldn’t remember many things, but he knew. 

But something changed. 

He was still a Solider. 

He still followed his orders. 

But...

He wanted something. 

He knew he wasn’t suppose to want anything. Hydra provided him what was necessary. 

Food. Shelter. Supplies. 

Things he needed. 

But there was something he wanted. Desperately. 

And that something sat several stories up in the apartment that acted as a prison. 

He knew where the cameras were, skillfully avoiding them. Sticking to the shadows. 

He opened the window, frowning at it being unlocked. 

Though the inhabitant was under a near constant guard, it was still unsafe.

He’d have to have a discussion with her about that. 

He stepped silently into the bedroom. He didn’t know exactly why, but it was familiar. 

The woman he looked for wasn’t in her bed. 

He frowned. It was 02:30am. She should be sleeping. She required far more then he did. 

A shuffling from beyond the bedroom drew his attention. 

Removing his knife from its sheath, he silently stalked from the room. 

A dull yellow light guided his way.

There, in the glow of the refrigerator light, was his target. 

She wore less then what he remembered. Usually she wore her medical uniform. Scrubs. She refused the lab coat. 

She was a nurse. People called her “Doc” and she hated it. She told them she wasn’t a doctor, but they’d laugh at her and carry on. 

His eyes trailed up the smooth expanse of her legs, his journey hindered by the small gray shorts she wore that hardly covered her bottom. 

Skimming past those, he eyed the sliver of skin that was exposed from her tank top that had ridden up on her. The soft slope of her stomach. Her breasts swayed freely, and with his enhanced vision, he could almost see the outline of her nipples pressing against the material. 

Her dark curls hung free, flowing down past her shoulders. 

Something inside of him wondered if they were as soft as they looked. 

He had a feeling they were. 

Everything about her looked soft. 

His right hand had an itch to find out just how right he was. 

She was drinking something straight from the jug. Juice, probably. Pink. His mind wandered at what it was. He could only ever remember what water tasted like. 

Something told him she liked juice. Coffee, too. 

He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. 

She swiped her thumb across her full bottom lip, wiping away any remnants of her late night drink. 

The soft noise of appreciation she made went straight to his core. 

She made a sigh as she replaced the container, though this one sounded different. More tired. A little distressed. 

He didn’t like that noise. 

She wasn’t just a nurse. She was his nurse. 

He wanted his nurse to be as content as she could be. 

Ever since his handler had dragged her into his life, kicking and screaming and fighting, he’d almost always remembered her. 

Every wipe was flawed nowadays. 

He still couldn’t remember much. 

He knew he forgot more about her then he should. 

But he remembered more then he should, too. 

And he always remembered her. 

Tonight, he remembered her name. 

Andrea. 

She gave him a litany of nicknames he could call her. Andy. Drea. Dre. 

But he liked Andrea. 

His Andrea. 

He didn’t know when he started considering her as his, but the feeling was there. 

His soft, fiery, sweet, temperamental, smart little nurse. 

He moved further into the room, stepping harder then he usually would. Letting her know he was there. 

“Winter!” She gasped, pressing the heel of her palm into her chest. 

She’d even given him a name. 

Winter. 

She was the only one who’d tried to give him a name. A piece of himself that no one else would allow. Some type of identity. 

“Jesus Christ, you scared me!” She panted. Her eyes were wide. Green. A pretty green, framed with long lashes. But there was a darkness under them. 

His nurse was tired. 

Hydra was working her too hard. 

He was working her too hard. 

After several visits to patching him up, he’d begun to get hurt on purpose. If he wasn’t hurt, he wouldn’t get to see her. Feel her. Listen to her. 

So he occasionally became sloppy. 

There was a few times he’d turned his knife on himself. Nothing detrimental.

But it meant he’d get to see her. 

“Are you okay?” She asked gently, taking a few steps towards him. 

She was never scared of him. Even when he’d hurt her, she came back. 

Still sweet. Still soft. Still gentle. 

She always came back. 

He removed his face mask, setting it on the counter. 

“Winter...? What’s wrong?” She asked. 

She was so much smaller then him. 

Too small. Too sweet. 

Too much of so much good that shouldn’t exist in his world. 

He reached out his hand, palm up, somehow knowing she’d know what he was asking for. 

She slipped her hand against his, her fingers gentle and soft. He closed his around her tiny hand. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked again, her voice softer, “Look at me, Winter...please?”

His eyes cut to hers. 

Her eyes were so warm, and filled with an emotion he didn’t know the word for. 

All the languages he spoke. Every nonverbal cue he could read. But she was filled with things he couldn’t decipher. And he wanted to know. 

His hand tightened around hers, pulling her closer. 

This wasn’t safe, what he was doing. 

For either of them. 

But god damn it...he wanted something warm. Something soft. Something that was his. 

He pulled her closer to his chest, exchanging holding her hand for wrapping it around her waist. The other joined the motion, and his face found its way into the mess of dark curls. 

“Did you need a hug?” She asked, her voice soft and amused. 

He nodded once, tightening his grip. 

She huffed out a laugh, wrapping her arms around him. 

Hugs weren’t safe.  
Hugs left you open to attack.  
His back and midsection were now vulnerable. 

But he didn’t feel an ounce of concern that she would attempt to harm him. 

She didn’t let go until he pulled back to look down at her. 

“Feel better?” She asked, her eyes soft. 

He nodded once. 

“Good,” she said with a smile. 

Fuck...he loved when she smiled. More specifically, he loved when she smiled at him. 

He reached his hand towards her face, his fingers ghosting across the soft flesh of her lips. His thumb brushed against the tender pink flesh. 

His eyes widened when her tongue traced the path he’d created. 

“Winter,” she breathed softly, “Why are you here?”

Instinct. 

Instinct caused him to go so far out of his way to crawl through her window. To seek her out. 

Instinct was the only thing driving him now. 

He felt unsure. 

Another useless feeling that didn’t have any use in Hydras ranks. 

An emotion that was unacceptable for The Asset. 

But, could it be acceptable for Winter? In this tiny apartment? Away from his handlers, his missions? 

He only watched as her fingers reached towards his face, skimming across the stubble on his cheeks. Moving further down to his neck. 

He felt her body shift as she raised herself on the balls of her feet. 

He let her. 

Her face inched closer to his. He could count the flecks if darker green spots near her widened pupils. 

He could pick up a scent. He could decipher that it was different from her normal scent. 

Normally, she smelled of soap and fresh laundry. 

But her usual scent mixed with the smell of the juice on her breath, something sweet, and a heady smell. 

He knew the scent. Something told him he’d smelt it before. It was heavy, and raw. Intoxicating in its own right. 

He froze when her lips captured his bottom lip. His arms tightened around her. 

She didn’t push closer. Just pressed. 

It was...nice. 

Her eyes were closed. He wanted to close his too. 

But before he could, she started to move back. 

He wanted the nice feel feeling to stay. 

“Tell me to stop,” he told her, his voice hoarse. Rough. 

“Do you want to?” She asked, her voice a soft whisper. 

She always gave him options. He couldn’t remember having those before her. It made his brain hurt when she first started asking him. His training screaming against the possibility to choose what he wanted. 

It still left a dull, tingling sensation at the base of his skull that was getting easier to deal with. 

“No.”

He wrapped his metal arm around her, pulling her in as close as he could. His flesh arm grasped the back of her neck, pulling her in for a bruising kiss that was met with her how fervor. 

Desperation. Need. Hope. Affection. 

All that and more poured into a single action. 

His kiss was sloppy. Needy. His tongue peaked open, asking for permission to explore new territory. 

She obliged. 

He sought through her warm mouth, sweet from her drink, lapping up the flavor that was so familiar, but he still couldn’t place. 

But he wanted more. 

She moaned softly in the back of her throat, her hands grasping at his shoulders and hair.

His hands trailed down, grasping the soft flesh of her bottom, squeezing. Bending a bit, he takes hold of thighs, hoisting her up. 

The small noise of suprise she makes as he easily hoists her from the floor, the way her ankles come to wrap around his waist and lock her in place, causes the corner of his to flick up in a smirk. 

He could feel the warmth radiating from her body. He loved that she was always warm. 

He’s been cold for so long. 

He wanted to be warm, too. 

He made his way back to the bedroom with his prize, his steps faltering when her lips went for his neck, sucking in a breath with he felt her lips move over a particular near his shoulder. 

He set her carefully on the bed, moving his hands down the back of her legs as she laid back. Taking her in. Watching for any sign that she didn’t want this. 

She answered his stare by reaching to the hem of her top, pulling it off and letting it drop against the sheets. 

His eyes wandered the smooth expanse of her skin. Not a single blemish in sight. 

Breasts that were just enough to fill the hand, tipped with dusky pink nipples. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his teeth sinking into the flesh for a moment. 

She took hold of his hands, carefully removing the half fingered tactical gloves, her eyes on him the entire time. 

She placed his right hand on her chest, and he could feel how warm she was. How her heart beat pounded against his hand. Her eyes were half lidded, pupils blown wide, though this wasn’t fear. 

This was something completely on a completely different spectrum. 

That little bit of permission was what he needed. 

He dove for her neck, dragging his tongue across the smooth skin, feeling her pulse thrum against his mouth. Moving lower, peppering her chest with tiny bites and sucking. 

He couldn’t leave a mark that they’d see when she was called to the laboratory again. 

They’d know. 

They’d known he’d been here. 

He didn’t want to lose this. 

Didn’t want to lose her. 

He had so little. 

He wanted to keep this. 

To keep her. 

He took her nipple into his mouth, moaning softly. His left arm was useless for this. He could only feel pressure. But right hand felt every inch of soft skin as he cradled the other one, burying his face between the two soft globes, exhaling roughly at the feeling of her fingering carding through his hair, the whimpers she made spurring him on. 

He slid his leg in between her spread ones, groaning deep when he felt her roll her hips against the thick muscle of his thigh. 

“Winter,” she gasped, pulling at his shoulders. His eyes shot to her wide green ones, wondering what he did wrong. 

“I think you might be a little overdressed,” she said, her fingers tugging at the clasps of his body armor. 

He took over, removing each strap quickly, his outer layer falling to the floor. He didn’t care that his weapons fell with it. 

He faltered as he went to remove the long sleeved compression shirt when he felt her lips connect with his hip, following his hands at far she could as he tossed it off, letting it drop to the floor.

She watched him with the most expressive eyes he’d ever seen. She wasn’t appraising him like some did. 

Like he was a weapon.

She was appreciating him. 

Like he was a man. 

He captured her lips in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue and desperation for more, before moving down, inhaling deeply at the center of her chest. 

He inches further, following the scent that’d been clouding his senses. 

He hooked his fingers through her shorts, pulling them down until she was bared to him. 

All he could ever remember seeing was blood. Pain. Hard edges and fear. 

That was the natural order of his life. 

To have something warm and soft and gentle laid before him in such a state...she was exquisite. 

“Прекрасный,” he whispered. 

He pressed his lips against the smooth skin of her hip, feeling her jump and whimper at the contact. 

She opened so easily for him, inviting him to explore more. 

Her scent was most potent at this level. 

He slid a rough, calloused finger along the folds of her core, gathering it along his fingers. He watched her carefully as he gently explored the delicate skin, almost jumping when her hips bucked and a whimper passed her lips when he’d brushed against her clit. 

He did it again, and again, watching the skin glisten with her essence. 

Carefully, he pressed his middle finger inside of her, groaning at the sensation of her smooth walls grasping at him, pulling him deeper. She whimpered, pressing and rolling her hips against his hand. 

“Please...” she whispered, one hand fisting the sheets, the one pressed over her flushed chest. 

Somehow, he knew what she was asking. 

His index finger joined his other, his thumb pressed firmly on the bundle of nerves. 

He watched with rapt attention as she moaned his name, rolling her hips in time to his fingers thrusts. 

She cried out for more when his fingers crooked, finding a spot that made her buck. He pressed his metal arm across her hips to steady her, one quaking leg over his shoulder while he worked her into a frenzy. 

He groaned against her knee, brushing his lips against the tender skin, his body heating up. His cock had swollen, and was near painful against the rough material of his tac pants. 

But he was patient. He could wait. 

He sucked harshly at the delicate flesh of her inner thigh, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh, tasting a mixture of her sweat and the honeyed juices that were pouring out of her. 

She made a noise above him, grasping at his hair. It was a mixture of pleasure and pain.

He pulled back to admire his mark. 

His. 

She was his. 

Something primal surged in him, screaming at him. Claim her. Take her. 

Mine. Mine. Mine. 

“моя,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to the red and purple bruise. 

She wouldn’t understand it. She didn’t speak Russian. But it was better this way. If they asked her anything about what he said, she wouldn’t have any answers. 

But his intent was clear. 

She reached down, her fingers trailing against the stubble on his cheek. He leaned into the touch, savoring it. 

“Need you,” she whined softly. 

He looked at her, feeling her other leg that’d been spread out next to her try to hook around him, silently begging for something.

He understood. 

He was quick, pulling her wandering limb over his other shoulder then working at his pants. They’d barely made it past his thighs before he grabbed hold of his swollen cock, using his wet hand to coat himself. 

Her breath hitched at the display, her darken eyes wide as she watched him.

He knew he should go slow. 

He should savor this moment. 

But he also knew his time was running out. 

It’d take him a few hours to return to the extraction site. 

She gasped, clutching at his shoulders as he entered her, filling her. A few thrusts was all it took for him to be buried to the hilt. 

He let out a low groan, “Ты чертовски красивый ангел.”

She felt like heaven. 

He breathed heavy, his forehead resting against her breastbone, her legs quaking on his shoulders. 

A few moments passed before he pulled out, only a bit, before pushing back inside, groaning at the feeling of her body trying to pull him back in. 

Her nails raked at his bicep, scrambling to find something to hold onto. 

“I got you,” he grunted, shifting their position so she could wrap her legs around her waist. 

He braced himself on his left arm, holding the back of her neck with his right so he could angle her mouth against his, devouring the noises she made. 

“You feel fucking incredible,” he breathed into ear, relishing the way her nails scraped along his back. 

He knew they wouldn’t last. He healed too fast. But, he cherished the idea that she was marking him, too. 

His normally mouthy little nurse was reduced to moans and whimpers that drove him wild. The name she’d given to him was like a prayer. 

She didn’t need to beg. 

He’d give her anything. 

He could feel her breasts brushing against his chest, her thighs quaking. The flush covering her cheeks and chest. 

She was an absolute vision. 

The soundtrack of their hips connection, the obscene wet noises of her dripping core taking every inch he gave her at the hard and fast pace she asked of him had the soldiers mind in a frenzy. 

“Ты так хорошо принимаешь мой член, ангел. Каждый гребаный дюйм! твоя киска была создана для меня,” he grunted. 

“Winter!” She gasped, her back bowing. He felt her pull him in further, her body almost refusing to let go. 

Her eyes slipped shut as she tightened around him further. 

“No,” he grunted, “Open those eyes, pretty girl. Look at me.”

Her eyes opened, dark and filled with an emotion the asset couldn’t pinpoint. 

She whispered his name, before a an almost surprised gasp escaped her, her mouth forming into a sweet little O shape. 

Her walls tightened, and he felt a rush something wet and hot against him that made him groan in satisfaction. 

He road her through her orgasm, not letting up as she whimper and cried out beneath him.

A guttural groan pulled from deep in his chest as he followed her, thick, hot ropes painted her walls. 

He caught himself before he collapsed atop her, rolling partially off to the side. He groaned at the loss of her heat. She made a noise of displeasure, a little shiver running through her at the sensation. 

He collected her in his arms, situating her closer to him. 

The Solider couldn’t remember if he’d ever cuddled someone before. 

He doubted it. 

But something about having her nestled against him, so soft and warm and relaxed...he wanted it. 

He needed it. 

It felt right. 

It felt good. 

When she made to move, saying something about needed to clean up, he hushed her, holding her tighter until her squirming calmed. 

He could feel the remanants of their coupling leaking into his thigh, but he was hard pressed to care. 

He tenderly stroked her hair, watching at how content she seemed. 

His mind began to wander. 

His handlers and the doctors said he’d been doing that far too much lately. Too much free thinking. 

He frowned. 

Andrea didn’t seem to mind. He felt she’d encourage it. Accept it. Accept him. Not as the Solider, the Asset, the Fist of Hydra. 

But she’d accept him as Winter. 

As a man. 

As her man. 

He wondered what would happen once his missions were complete. 

When Hydra succeeded. 

Could he take her away? He knew she didn’t like it there. She didn’t like working for them. 

He could take care of her. Protect her. Provide for her. 

Hydra would always need soldiers.

Perhaps once their goal was complete, he could be able to work differently. 

Find a home for them. 

He felt like she’d be happier in her own home then the apartment that was provided for her by his employers. 

Some of those he worked with had their own women. Girlfriends. Wives. 

He heard them talking about it. Dinners together. Shows they watched together on television. Outings in the world. Time with their women and, sometimes, their children. 

Could he have that too?

Not right now, he knew, but someday, perhaps?

His mind was going down a dangerous path. If he kept this up, he might not make it to the extraction point. 

He might just tell her to dress, drag her to the car he had parked a few miles away, and disappear. 

“What were you drinking?” He asked suddenly. 

The room had been quiet. She was draped across him, her leg thrown over his hip. Head nestled against his shoulder and her small hand resting on his chest. 

His left hand clasped hers, his right still slowly combing through her hair. 

He was right. 

It was soft. 

“Hm?” She asked, a sleepy and content sound. 

“What were you drinking?” He repeated. 

She looked up at him, her eyes half lidded in her post sex bliss. 

“Pink lemonade,” she replied lazily, “You’ve had it with me before. We had chicken sandwiches with it. Do you remember?”

He frowned, his brows furrowed in concentration. 

“It’s okay, if you don’t,” she reassured him. 

“Did I like it?” He asked softly. 

She nodded, “Yea, you did. Do you want to try it again?” 

He took a moment to consider his options. 

He had time. 

He nodded yes. 

———

He was glad that she wasn’t teary when he dressed to leave. 

It would have made it harder for him. 

But his nurse was strong. 

She helped him, placing his weapons back in their proper position. 

All except one. 

He hand her one of his knives. It was small, but fit well in her tiny hands. 

She looked confused. 

“You need to lock your windows, красивая девушка,” he said lowly. 

“No ones going to come in through them,” she said, her head tilted to the side. 

“How do you this I got inside?” He teased, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. 

She huffed out a laugh, “I have a feeling you’d be the only one not to use the door. Plus, I know you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.”

She was right. He’d do anything to keep her safe from harm. 

“I’m not always around,” he advised. 

She hummed in agreement, her eyes looking down at the knife in her hand. 

“I guess a part of you will be around,” she mused aloud. 

The closest he ever got to laughing was a huff through the nose, a flick of the corner of his lips. 

“Won’t they wonder where it went?” She asked, looking unsure. 

“Things are lost all the time, возлюбленная.”

She shook her head, a fond smile on her lips. 

She stepped forward, kissing him softly. 

He could taste the pink lemonade on her lips. 

“Please be safe,” she whispered as she pulled back, handing him his face mask. 

His only answer was nod before he climbed out the window, disappearing into the early morning. 

———

Bucky felt uncomfortable. 

He sat next to Steve in Tony Starks office, trying not to shift in his seat. 

Stark was working to bring together the Avengers again. A fresh start for everyone. 

Stark and Bucky still had some unresolved tension between them, but he’d agreed to let him come aboard. 

Even after his deprogramming in Wakanda, he still hadn’t fully reconciled his feelings of being a monster. 

“-a full work up from one of our medical staff here,” Tony said, explaining the onboarding process, the word medical bringing Bucky back into full focus. 

Bucky hated doctors. 

“I figure you’ll have a clean bill of health, but still gotta be done,” Tony shrugged, “Andy’s free now, if you wanna get that part over with. Everything else looks like it’s in order.”

“Andy’s nice,” Steve said, sensing Buckys hesitation. 

Bucky side eyed him. 

“Come on, Buck,” Steve urged, standing up, “The sooner we go, the sooner it gets done.l

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets as he followed Steve through the halls of the Avengers compound. 

It’s where he’d be living for the time being. Bucky saw it as a prison. 

Albeit a nice prison, but still a prison none the less. 

But it was either this, or a cell on The Raft. Or constantly being on the run, hiding. 

And Bucky was tired of running. 

Steve opened the doors to the medical wing and led him to an office, opening the door and calling out, “Andy?”

“Steve? Oh, hey! I’ll be out in a minute! Go ahead and take a seat,” Came a call from the exam room. Bucky frowned at the voice. 

He assumed ‘Andy’ would have been a male. 

Bucky looked around the room with wry eyes, jumping when Steve put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, motioning to the chairs in front of the desk. 

Bucky sat down heavily, staring silently at his hands. Dreading the battery of tests he’d have to endure. Nurse, doctor. It didn’t make a difference to him. He didn’t like any of them. 

“Who’d you bring me today?” The bright voice said, coming around into the main office space. 

Steve answered her in an equally friendly voice, “An old friend of mine.”

She came around the desk, eyes fixed on a chart in front of her, “James, right? Well there’s not a whole lot of information here, so I’ll just have some...basic...questions?” 

Bucky looked up as she trailed off. 

A woman with dark hair pulled into a high pony tail, wearing a dark uniform with the Stark logo on the breast. Short. A pretty face with full lips. Wide green eyes looking at him from behind clubmaster glasses. 

He thought she was beautiful. 

Bucky felt a strange, full body tingling sensation take over him. 

“Winter...?” She asked. 

Steve tensed at the partial moniker she used for him. As far as he knew, she hadn’t been told of his background yet. 

Bucky tensed for an entirely different reason. 

He felt like he knew her. 

“Hi,” he said, not knowing why he even spoke. 

“Hi,” She breathed softly, setting the chart down.

“Have we...have we met?” He asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. 

He knew her. 

“We have...a few times,” she said, slowly sitting down. 

He looked to Steve for confirmation that what she was saying was true, but Steve looked just as confused. 

“My, uh...my memories a little off,” Bucky tried to explain, feeling embarrassed. He wished he could remember meeting someone as beautiful as her. 

“It’s okay,” she said, shaking her head, a fond smile spreading across her lips. 

It felt like they’d had this type of conversation before. 

He believed her when she said that it was okay. 

Her smile made him feel safe. Warm. Welcomed, even.”

“Well, my names Andrea,” she began, “I’ll be your nurse today.”

**Author's Note:**

> Russian Translations (from a translator)
> 
> Прекрасный  
> Beautiful 
> 
> моя  
> Mine
> 
> Ты чертовски красивый ангел  
> You fucking beautiful angel 
> 
> Ты так хорошо принимаешь мой член, ангел. Каждый гребаный дюйм! твоя киска была создана для меня  
> You take my cock so perfectly, angel. Every fucking inch! your pussy was made for me
> 
> красивая девушка  
> Beautiful girl
> 
> возлюбленная  
> Sweetheart


End file.
